I decided: the theme of my blog will DREAMS AND THE CITY '. Two of my specific interests, two passions, two obsessions that often meet and mingle inside me like lovers' bodies. Speaking to me through their embrace and make me live other lives.
The peculiarity of the dream of tonight is the pit. I was in the midst of so many people on the beach. A crowded beach, those style Versilia, with umbrellas close, almost touching the sky and cover. Even my brother and his friends had unit a long table, with a canopy of cloth that covered him, and camps. It was not a summer beach, as always, the sea of \u200b\u200bmy dreams is dark and winter, with the cloudy sky turned gray and very wet sand. It was also moved, marked by swelling waves of swimmers who swam quietly. Recover after the curtain of people who crowded the shore and I stood on the shore, with his feet in the water. I wanted to take a bath but the decision was difficult because the sea was not invited: in addition to waves, the water was cold and dark. My body reacted to this difficult situation but also emotional climate, however laboriously gathered forces to plunge.
But suddenly the crowd gathered and moved to something as guided by an attractive force.
Even I walked with the other, crushed in the crowd, losing sight of known faces. As an unlikely step with sudden we were in my nursery. It was much bigger than in reality and willing differently. Ancient Great rooms with little furniture. Appeared the sisters, including my teacher. There were no children but their presence was felt, even if the environment was more like an empty orphanage rather than a nursery. The rooms are filled with waves, people crammed in search of something, or waiting for a higher order. The flow began again and pushed through the building were coming along dark corridors and rooms that lead to other rooms, in a kind of laborious ascent. The scales were transformed by large staircases nineteenth century in small, unstable ladders made of dark wood, on the attic and the sense of ascent increased, while the sisters remained on the lower floors and I tried my teacher, lost in the crowd to prepare beds for children. I wanted to get there but the pace of the crowd that was entered does not let me. And then I was afraid that I'd know. We ended up on the ridge of a mountain, a cliff overlooking the sea. The last climb was tiring to climb a rock wall, which ended with a sharp point and slippery. There were so many, I and other familiar faces, people of my childhood. You could see the sea out of sight, a sea of \u200b\u200bMediterranean flavor, I can not say what time of day.
The most pervasive feeling was that of not being able to visit with calm and sufficient living space my asylum. Seized by the desire to go back and review it room by room, even in unknown aspects, I was prevented dall'ingombro human who presided. I discovered a dark, dusty corridor of rooms with the nuns. While others had achieved the purpose of the mysterious visit, I felt deeply dissatisfied and disoriented.
I had found what, in my past, I came for.
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